Read Online Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6) by Freya Barker - Free Book Online
Authors: Freya Barker
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against the door with all my might.
As soon as my feet start moving, a band of steel closes around my waist and pulls me into a hard wall of muscle. I don't get a chance to scream because a hand slaps over my mouth.
"Hush, Nizhóní . Let me make sure there's no one else."
I know that deep voice and I no sooner hear it before I swing around, burying my face in his shirt. Mal .
"It's okay," he murmurs, his hand on the back of my head, pressing me into his body.
"I peed myself," I mumble into his shirt. Jesus, what the hell possessed me to blurt that out?
He gently pushes on my shoulders to move me back a little and looks down on me. "I've got some sweats in the truck you can borrow. You can change while I make some calls.” When he turns me in the direction of the backdoor, I can't resist looking back over my shoulder. Don't know what I expected to find, I heard the struggle and the gunshot, yet the sight of my boss lying unmoving in a puddle of blood is a shock. I clap my hand over my mouth to stop from tossing my cookies and a firm arm around my shoulders pulls me out of the hallway and into the alley.
The cool fresh air helps as I take in large gulps while Mal silently guides me down the block. I'm surprised to see his truck parked two cars behind mine. He opens the door and hoists me into the cab. Rooting around in the back, he comes up with a pair of grey sweatpants he tosses in my lap.
"You put these on first, before you freeze to death. I've gotta make some calls."
Slamming the door shut, he turns his back and puts a phone to his ear. I'm high up enough that no one can see what I'm doing, as long as I keep my ass lower than the bottom of the window.
It's only now, I notice the smell of urine and I cringe. His whole freaking truck will reek. As fast as I can, I strip my bottom half and pull up the sweats. Fuck, they're cold!
I flip the door open and quickly get out of the truck, my sodden jeans and undies in my hand. I purposely ignore Mal as I walk toward my car, pop the trunk and toss my stuff in. When I turn back, I find myself looking at the broad expanse of Mal's chest. He must've followed closely behind me. His phone still at his ear, he appears to be listening to whoever is talking on the other side, but still manages to glare at me.
In the distance, I can hear the sound of sirens.
"Gotta go, the cavalry is here," Mal says in the phone before tucking the phone in his pocket.
"Don't walk away like that again," he says calmly, yet I can hear the threat in his voice. Whatever. I wasn't gonna stink up the cab of his truck. This experience has been embarrassing enough as it is. Before I can come up with a reply, two police cars, followed by a now familiar sheriff's patrol car come whipping around the corner and drive right up to the door of the office. An ambulance pulls in behind them; I'm afraid it's too late for that.
I watch the officers go in, but just as I think the sheriff will follow them, he turns and comes straight for us. When he is about six feet away, I feel Mal step beside me, wrap his arm around my shoulders and in some kind of proprietary move, pulls me into the side of his body. I'm frankly too stunned to react, and right now, with my shakes starting back up, the heat from his big body is mighty welcome. The move does not go unnoticed by Sheriff Carmel, who raises both eyebrows in response, but doesn't say a word.
He nods in greeting. "Mal. Kimeo."
"Kim, please," I tell him, not sure why I insist on that now but somehow hearing my name from his mouth doesn't sound right. He concedes with a tilt of his head.
"Kim. Can you tell me what happened?"
For the next thirty minutes I recount everything that happened, starting with Martin's phone call, until Mal stops me with a question. "Where is the drive?"
"Oh my God...I totally forgot." I start rummaging through my pockets finding them empty. Then Mal leans in and whispers. "Your jeans?"
Shit. Shit. Shit. Bad enough to have one person
As soon as my feet start moving, a band of steel closes around my waist and pulls me into a hard wall of muscle. I don't get a chance to scream because a hand slaps over my mouth.
"Hush, Nizhóní . Let me make sure there's no one else."
I know that deep voice and I no sooner hear it before I swing around, burying my face in his shirt. Mal .
"It's okay," he murmurs, his hand on the back of my head, pressing me into his body.
"I peed myself," I mumble into his shirt. Jesus, what the hell possessed me to blurt that out?
He gently pushes on my shoulders to move me back a little and looks down on me. "I've got some sweats in the truck you can borrow. You can change while I make some calls.” When he turns me in the direction of the backdoor, I can't resist looking back over my shoulder. Don't know what I expected to find, I heard the struggle and the gunshot, yet the sight of my boss lying unmoving in a puddle of blood is a shock. I clap my hand over my mouth to stop from tossing my cookies and a firm arm around my shoulders pulls me out of the hallway and into the alley.
The cool fresh air helps as I take in large gulps while Mal silently guides me down the block. I'm surprised to see his truck parked two cars behind mine. He opens the door and hoists me into the cab. Rooting around in the back, he comes up with a pair of grey sweatpants he tosses in my lap.
"You put these on first, before you freeze to death. I've gotta make some calls."
Slamming the door shut, he turns his back and puts a phone to his ear. I'm high up enough that no one can see what I'm doing, as long as I keep my ass lower than the bottom of the window.
It's only now, I notice the smell of urine and I cringe. His whole freaking truck will reek. As fast as I can, I strip my bottom half and pull up the sweats. Fuck, they're cold!
I flip the door open and quickly get out of the truck, my sodden jeans and undies in my hand. I purposely ignore Mal as I walk toward my car, pop the trunk and toss my stuff in. When I turn back, I find myself looking at the broad expanse of Mal's chest. He must've followed closely behind me. His phone still at his ear, he appears to be listening to whoever is talking on the other side, but still manages to glare at me.
In the distance, I can hear the sound of sirens.
"Gotta go, the cavalry is here," Mal says in the phone before tucking the phone in his pocket.
"Don't walk away like that again," he says calmly, yet I can hear the threat in his voice. Whatever. I wasn't gonna stink up the cab of his truck. This experience has been embarrassing enough as it is. Before I can come up with a reply, two police cars, followed by a now familiar sheriff's patrol car come whipping around the corner and drive right up to the door of the office. An ambulance pulls in behind them; I'm afraid it's too late for that.
I watch the officers go in, but just as I think the sheriff will follow them, he turns and comes straight for us. When he is about six feet away, I feel Mal step beside me, wrap his arm around my shoulders and in some kind of proprietary move, pulls me into the side of his body. I'm frankly too stunned to react, and right now, with my shakes starting back up, the heat from his big body is mighty welcome. The move does not go unnoticed by Sheriff Carmel, who raises both eyebrows in response, but doesn't say a word.
He nods in greeting. "Mal. Kimeo."
"Kim, please," I tell him, not sure why I insist on that now but somehow hearing my name from his mouth doesn't sound right. He concedes with a tilt of his head.
"Kim. Can you tell me what happened?"
For the next thirty minutes I recount everything that happened, starting with Martin's phone call, until Mal stops me with a question. "Where is the drive?"
"Oh my God...I totally forgot." I start rummaging through my pockets finding them empty. Then Mal leans in and whispers. "Your jeans?"
Shit. Shit. Shit. Bad enough to have one person
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